


Kumpel

by unfortunately7



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gender-neutral Reader, Other, Slight mentions of Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 05:42:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18004922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunately7/pseuds/unfortunately7
Summary: For one of my best friends ever! Please leave a comment!





	Kumpel

**Author's Note:**

> For one of my best friends ever! Please leave a comment!

The smell of unwashed hair and motor oil.

The grip of rough hands on your hips.

Foreign groans of pleasure.

Hot, wet semen splattering onto your back.

Blood dripping down lacerations all over you. Your sides, your thighs, your chest.

"Hey Kumpel, was ist los?"

You knew German fairly well. You spat at him, the bastard standing in front of you, waving a nail gun. 

"I'm not your buddy and you know damn well what's wrong."

The deranged man giggled madly. He crept closer, kneeling down in front of you. 

"Ach, sei nicht so, meine Liebe."

{Aw, don't be like that, my love.}

He held the nail gun closer to you. You cringed away, knowing that he wouldn't hesitate to use it. He laughed harder.

"What is it, are you frightened by this kleine thing? It doesn't even hurt."

He pressed it to your shoulder, snickering as you tried desperately to squirm away. His finger tightened on the trigger.

SNAP.

You cried out, voice shrill. 

"See? It barely hurts at all," he purred. Tears began to leak from the corners of your eyes.

"F-fuck you," you choke. He frowns, but it quickly morphs into a sickly grin. 

"Wenn du mich auch willst."

{If you want me to.}

He pries open your legs, holding the nail gun to your shoulder still to keep you from resisting. You tremble as he unzips his pants, pulling out his cock. It's already erect and wet from pre-cum.

He shoves in roughly, making you gasp and scream at the top of your lungs. The fox-boy watching from the corner flinches at the sound. he looks so young, so scared. You think that he probably has it even worse than you.

The German begins to thrust roughly, and it feels like you're being ripped apart at the seams. In his pleasure, his finger tightens on the nail gun's trigger once more. You shout as a second nail enters your shoulder. You're sure that it's shattered your clavicle. 

The greasy man tosses away the gun and wraps his hands around your neck, gripping tightly. Your visions begins to blur and go black around the edges. As he nears orgasm, his grip tightens. You pass out just as he cums.

 

You wake slowly. It's dark in the god-forsaken basement. The fox-boy and greasy-man are gone. You think you hear a screech from upstairs and wonder just what the poor beast-kin has gone through living in this hellhole with a madman.

Twenty minutes later, boot-steps start down the stairs. You feign that you are sleeping, hoping faithlessly that he'll spare you this time. 

"Aufwachen." He kicks you in the ribs. Something snaps. You groan and peel your eyes open.

He walks over to the counter and leans against it, one leg crossed over the other. He's holding a knife. it looks like some sort of deadly-sharp hunting knife. You don't even want to think about what he's planning to do with it. 

"Guten Morgen, meine Liebling. Wie geht's?"

You sneer at him and turn your face away. He sighs.

"Kumpel, I must be honest. You are beginning to bore me. You're no fun to play with anymore."

Just how long had you been down here, you wonder. He walks closer, eyes glittering.

"But I guess we can have one more play-date before you leave."

Leave?

"Don't look so hopeful, Kumpel. You won't be leaving alive."

He laughs at your expression. Without warning, he lunges at you. The knife is thrust into your stomach. It's just as sharp as you thought, but you can't think about that through the searing pain. He splits you open. The wound is only five or so inches long, but it is deep and feels like it has split you in two. 

Tears run down your face as you beg him, plead for him to stop. It does no good. It only ignites the fire in his eyes and in his crotch. His erection is prominent.

He wriggles the knife around for several seconds before slowly drawing it out. He gazes intently at the blade and then licks it clean as you watch in pained horror, careful to avoid the sharp edge. After the blade is clean, he sets it down on the concrete a few feet away.

He prods at the wound with his fingers and then plunges his hand into your body cavity. He pulls out a length of your intestines, coated with blood. They droop from your body when he lets them go. 

"Had to make some room in there, Liebling."

He unzips his fly and unbuttons is pants, removing himself slowly, right in full view. He strokes himself a few times, and then carefully places his tip at the wound's entrance. You realize in horror what he's about to do.

He eases himself in slowly, each inch burning like fire in your gut. He rocks his hips, humming to himself as you scream. He places a hand around your neck, but not choking you this time. No, instead, he watches, grinning, as you bleed out around him. He stands over your lifeless form, jerking himself off until a mix of your blood and his semen splatter onto your body, like a twisted piece of art.

"Ren," he shouts. "come and help me clean up. Our friend here has made quite a mess."

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment  
> Please
> 
> I'm begging you


End file.
